UnNews:Celtic F.C. sign youth player in transfer mix-up

When his phone buzzed at 00:00 on the first day of February, 17-year-old Michael Duffy ignored it and turned back to his more pressing task of drowning his sorrows in blackberry cider.

It was the last day of the winter January transfer window in Scotland, and as he hadn't been offered a new contract by his club Derry County, he was almost certainly destined for a career in second-tier Welshfootball where the pay was worse than being on benefits and the weather was worse than The Highlands. No club wanted to buy him, his own club didn't want him anymore so it's understandable that he was pushing himself to the brink of sanity. But he never got that far.

As he started to pour his second glass of the dark blackberry-riddled pleasure that is Fox Barrel, his phone buzzed again. He picked it up this time, and his life changed. It was his agent, and apparently Celtic F.C had come to an agreement with the winger without his knowledge, an agreement that meant for the next four years the teenager would be getting £20,000 a week for doing relatively little for society.

Naturally, Duffy celebrated. He put the blackberry cider back in its place and called his Mum who said she was "So proud of her little boy." Finally things were looking up.

Little did Duffy know that in a New York apartment sat another Michael Duffy, a priest who was the star of the Parish team with 11 goals to his name in the league. Next to him was the Celtic director of Football, a man famous for his love of red buildings. He had scouted the priest Michael Duffy on one of his red building expeditions and was impressed with the priest's touch and control as well as the way he finished so gracefully. He had gone to sign him in the final hours of the transfer window, only to find out that the paperwork had been mixed up and they now had a talentless kid on twenty grand a week. Definitely not the club's finest hour. The Director, Dermot Desmond said "It's a shame we've missed out on Duffy. He has a great touch, his technique is fabulous and he relishes doing the little things."

Back at his flat in Scotland, Michael Duffy got a third call from his agent. It turned out that he was going to be loaned to a club in Wales, Croesyceiliog A.F.C. for the next four years. They had good pet shops there he was told, and as he broke out the blackberry cider, Michael Duffy knew he would buy a turtle.